Cara Delevingne is finally letting the world hear her sing. After years of modeling, acting, and casually dropping guest vocal spots on albums by the likes of Fiona Apple and St. Vincent, she’s stepping into the spotlight as a recording artist in her own right, and the results are exactly as chaotic and confessional as you’d hope.
Breaking Through the Noise
The two new tracks, “I Forgot” and “Out of My Head,” dropped today via Warner Records, and they’re very much a statement of intent. “I Forgot” swings between quiet, vulnerable balladry and hyperpop distortion, production that Delevingne specifically wanted to feel like “the real me breaking through the phone.” She recorded with BJ Burton, the producer behind some of Charli XCX’s most abrasive work and Justin Vernon’s more experimental moments. That collaboration makes sense, actually. Delevingne has always seemed like someone comfortable with contradiction, and these songs lean into that fully.
The second track, “Out of My Head,” veers into drum-and-bass madness halfway through. Originally titled “Talking Heads,” it’s about that awkward social phenomenon where everyone at the table knows the truth about someone but nobody says it. “Someone’s having an affair, someone’s got a drug problem — no one’s saying the real words,” she explained. It’s a sharp observation wrapped in a surprisingly dark dance track.
The Sobriety Factor
What threads through both songs is Delevingne’s journey toward sobriety, which she kicked off around 2022. She describes the experience as “that kind of arid, raw feeling you get, exposed and unmedicated, just living life for the first time as a sober person.” There’s a vulnerability there that’s hard to fake, and it gives these tracks an emotional weight that purely stylistic choices couldn’t provide on their own.
She alsoacknowledges the strange grief that comes with getting clean. “You feel like the danger-seeking behavior or the rebellion is a part of you,” she said, “but underneath it all is actually this little kid and this innocence. Rediscovering that felt scary.” That tension between who she was and who she’s becoming runs through the music in a way that feels genuine, not performed.
The Long Road Here
Delevingne has been making music her whole life, technically. She sang on the Valerian soundtrack in 2017, guest-vocalized on Fiona Apple’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters, and showed up on St. Vincent’s “Pills.” But she never fully committed until now, in part because of a deal she signed as a teenager with 19 Management that wanted to塑造 her into a more conventional pop star.
“They wanted to push me into being an artist that was curated or designed by the people in charge,” she said. “That just wasn’t ever something I was interested in for music.” She walked away from that path, waited, and let the work develop organically. The patience seems to have paid off. Her debut album, also recorded with Burton, drops late summer, and she’s already booked a six-month tour starting in June, with some dates already sold out.
Fiona Apple even returned the favor, co-writing lyrics on a track called “Need It.” They exchanged ideas on Post-it notes. “I wanted to do a song that honored her,” Delevingne said. “I think without the experience of going in the studio with her, I’d never have felt like I could be myself.”
The Business Side
Signing with a major label wasn’t a given. Delevingne admits she was skeptical and scared, expecting she’d likely end up on an indie. She describes her sound as “leaning more left,” so Warner Records wasn’t an obvious fit. But Aaron Bay-Schuck, the label’s CEO, convinced her by showing faith in the early material. “My taste levels are a little bit expensive for a new artist,” she joked, acknowledging she’s financing some of the visual ambitions herself.
There’s a short film accompanying the two songs, directed by Severance cinematographer Jessica Lee Gagné, full of what Delevingne calls “wild, pricey-looking visual effects.” They both independently had the idea for a double video, which is the kind of coincidence that happens when creative people are on the same wavelength.
Coming soon: a more conventionally poppy single called “Crazy Baby,” which she wrote for her partner, British musician Minke. “I really didn’t want it to be a single, weirdly,” Delevingne admitted. “I thought it was too obvious.” She wrote it to push her partner’s buttons, since Minke “hates grand gestures and she’s a very private person.” The lyrics basically amount to “I’m sorry, but this is a love song. Get over it.” In a cute way, presumably.
The question now is whether Delevingne’s music can stand on its own outside the orbit of her celebrity. These songs suggest yes, but the real test comes with a full album and a tour. What she’s after is simple: “If anyone can hear it and feel something, that’s all I want.” That’s a modest goal for someone who’s spent a decade in the public eye, but maybe that’s precisely the point.
